When The Sun Turned Cold
by WolfAngel'JR
Summary: A brief father-son discussion between a 13-year old Barty Crouch Jr. and his father, casting a better light on some reasons for Junior's future choices. Part of my BCJ fic series.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Harry Potter world or any of its characters but they belong to J.K Rowling.

**AN** This is strongly related to my (much, much better written) one-shot, "Screaming In Our Hearts", which is about the day they save Junior from Azkaban. I just realized this is similar basic plot to my "Use well the days" fic's chapter 3, but surely essentially different. I'd hope this explains why they at that point didn't dig into the more significant issue anymore.

**My Junior's looks come from the actor Jamie Bell and Senior's from the director Thomas Vinterberg:**  
watch?v=VbIGFoabs84 **AN**

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**When The Sun Turned Cold**

He'd been told there's a world in every drop of rain. He doubted if his love of rainy days was enough an excuse for a thirteen-year old to come home well after midnight, during a war. But he didn't hurry. At least this time, he wasn't brought home by the police. He was careful to stomp, with as much force as he could, into every pool of water he could spot on the way. A happy grin on his face, he recalled how he used to do the same when he was little, even literally jump into them, make-believing he was a giant, destroying worlds. The only world he was concerned with now was his own. And yet in the end he couldn't bring himself to care. He needed someone else to do so.

"Where were you?", Junior heard coming from the living-room, the moment the door slammed shut behind him and he threw his wet coat on the floor, next to the rack in the dark entrance hall. "Out", he answered casually. It took a little longer than intended for he hadn't expected the man to have noticed. But afterward he just dismissed it, put his hands into his jeans' pockets and headed into the house and toward his room.

Barty appeared to the doorway, leaning on the frame, his hands, too, in his pockets. "Out where?" he kept asking, now in slightly strained tone, staring at his son, who headed his way in the corridor.

"Just out", the boy said a little less carelessly, and didn't look at him, as he passed him. He had barely finished his reply when Barty, who wasn't taking his eyes off of him, kept asking.

"With who?"

"No one." Junior reached the stairs in the end of the hallway and started up one step at a time.

"What were you doing?" stopped Junior as if into a wall before he was even half way up.

"Nothing!" he finally snapped at him, while quickly turning around to face him. Frustration was written all over his face, whereas on his father's, was confirmed certainty.

"You were out all alone, doing nothing."

"That's right."

"You were out with that gang, weren't you." Barty stated and crossed his arms, making it obvious he wasn't about to be through with it.

"I'd like to go to bed." Junior stated, his tone completely ignoring it. This caused Barty's tone change from strained, to utter disbelief.

"_What?_" was all he could say for the moment, while he also stared at his son in disbelief.

"I'd like to go to bed", the boy repeated louder and clearer, gesturing widely with his hands, towards his room upstairs. He was making huge efforts for his tone to stay even relatively respectful but failed.

"Well, I'd like to talk!" Barty exclaimed, not sure of how he felt, but trying his best to remain calm.

"I'd still-", Junior started again, even turning away.

"You come down. _Right now._" Barty told him before the boy could take another step. With a deep sigh, Junior obeyed and came, though lazily, down the stairs and stopped at the bottom. "Make it short, please. I'd _really_ like to go to bed. I need all strength tomorrow night."

"No you don't. You're not going to Hogsmade this Halloween. You're grounded for two months, which thus includes the Christmas break too."

After getting over the shock of how seriously that had been said, Junior's blue eyes grew wide. Breaking into complaints and spreading his arms, he followed the man into the living-room, ready to follow him until the end of the world or until he'd take those words back.

"Dad! I've been waiting for this Halloween for five years! You know that! You can't do this to me! Dad, please, _anything_ but that!"

"Oh, I did consider giving you a whipping and grounding you for the two months after tomorrow, but you're just proving that instead, this is exactly what I need to. Maybe you'll think better next time you plan to go against everything I've told you." Barty stated calmly, staring at the boy in the end-of-discussion fashion, and pointed at a chair. "Sit down."

"Well, have _you_ done any _thinking_ lately? Of anything besides work?" Junior voiced out the question he'd just asked in his mind, after deciding to drop the Halloween subject for the time being. He tried to focus on the current topic, but the thousand swear words wanting to get out, made it hard, as he tried all his might to keep from letting them.

"Tons", Barty answered sincerely.

"Ha!" Junior let out a sceptical and slightly mocking laugh before he could help it. "So you're not single-mindedly focusing on a promotion, since you got so excited about the previous one and your great, great popularity as a judge. Okay. In which reality?" he questioned while seating himself on one of the armchairs near the fireplace and relaxed in it. He was lying in it, his arms hanging lazily on both sides. Everything about his being oozed how uninterested he was to listen and he looked extremely annoyed. His coldness beat the cosy warmth the fire spread, as the atmosphere in the room was rather tense. He stared into the fire, while his father stared at him, weighting in his mind, how much the boy had meant that. He sat down on the opposite armchair and leaned a little forward.

"In this one, son. Yes, I mostly focus on work, but only when you're not around. Your mother has told me not to worry about her so much that it affects my work, so I don't. And you're away most of the year. But I do not ignore the letters I receive from Hogwarts around the Hogsmade weekends. Any more than I ignore how you've been brought home by the police at least once during every break from school." His serious tone made Junior take it more seriously too, by having him believe in this parent actually still caring. He even looked at him from the corner of his eye, still facing the fire.

"So you see it then? That I pull all that shit to get your attention whenever I am here to be around?"

"You don't _need_ to do that." Barty tried to sound as convincing as possible.

"I think I do", Junior commented convincingly without an effort, looking at the fire again. "I felt that need long ago, when you weren't yet as wrapped up in your career. But now you're living and breathing the world of rule breaking and judgment. I'd rather be part of your whatever world than out of it."

Barty frowned, and tried to make an argument but couldn't say a word, as subconsciously he realized there was a lot of sense and truth in those words. Junior had once said he was proud that his father worked so hard for everyone's safety, but apparently it had in the end been too much away from him. Finally he spoke, looking at his son very kindly.

"Look, why don't you give me another chance. Especially next summer – I promise we'll spend more time together. Just like in the old days." He sounded so gentle and genuinely sorry, that Junior couldn't help but soften a little. Yet it annoyed him even more because inside he was still mad as hell about the grounding at the worst possible time – but even deeper inside he still had the soft spot for any promises of quality time with Dad.

"It's only October. You're gonna forget…", the boy stated in all-knowing tone, glancing at him, while a faint, hopeful smile sneaked on his face anyway.

"Like I said. Give me a chance."

"Okay. But likewise, Dad…", his being was now that of a begging child and a teenage with an attitude. "_please,_ don't ruin this Halloween for me. It's not fair!"

Barty silently shook his head and lay back in his chair. "You are grounded from this day on. Hopefully you think next time, before staying out too late every damn night, potentially getting yourself killed. But above all, it seems I still haven't managed to root a certain bad habit out of you." he said, a certain hint in his voice, which Junior picked up instantly.

"It wasn't supposed to be there anymore…" he whispered to himself, his darkened eyes fixed at the fire, again. It was much more pleasant sight than the man in front of him, who once again in his eyes, seemed to master the way of being a good parent and a complete idiot at the same time. Junior crossed his arms, wanting to close part of the world out. He'd lose all faith if the man asked it again. And so it happened.

"It wasn't supposed to be in your room in the first place. What's with the stealing? We have more than enough money and I have raised you to work for it, too."

"All these years, and you still don't get it", Junior stated. His voice got openly and shamelessly mocking. It was a wonder he didn't laugh out loud again. The shitty, bitter laughter that was roaring inside him was written all over his face. But he knew he was crossing a certain line, so he at least didn't openly look at his father, even though he felt he'd deserved that. He'd deserve every bit of what he was feeling at the moment. In his mind he said _'You're fucking brain dead, and I refuse to talk to bleeding imbeciles...'_ but in his heart of hearts, love and hope was still overcoming hate, thus something else came out.

"You're indeed very forgetful, Pap. So let's have it your way even now. Just forget it! After all, I'm not stealing from _you_." With that he got up and intended to storm out, perhaps from the entire house regardless of the grounding. However, Barty who had paid very close attention to his being since the first words, pulled him back down before he could take even one step, and firmly held on to his arm.

"_Never_ use that tone with me. _Never_. No matter what I've forgotten. Now,_ speak_." he snapped at the boy, full of frustration and worry, mixed with growing anger. Junior closed his eyes, took couple of deep breaths and when he seemed somewhat calmer, Barty let go.

Junior kept his eyes closed and spoke with a strained smile on his face.

"I'm quoting someone now. Guess who. _"When you go to Hogwarts, that's what you focus on. You'll find something new. I won't pay for these kind of interests anymore"_." A silence between them was deeper than ever before, and Junior had never before enjoyed a silence more than he did then.

"Then… You remember that I also said I just want you to have the best possible base for a future", Barty stated what he had always thought the most essential part of that what he suddenly very well remembered he'd said. A worried frown returned on his forehead. He had a feeling the boy had seriously misunderstood something and been acting out for nothing really. "And that I'd also said I supported them so far because I love you, and know those hobbies were important to you."

Junior snorted quietly and slowly opened his eyes, only to stare at the floor with slightly absent-minded eyes. He remembered also why he hadn't believed the last mentioned but that he'd supported only because Mom wished it so.

"Oh yes. I remember everything. _"You dream, my child. You dream."_, you kept saying. Thanks for the genuinely affectionate tone, Dad, but don't think I didn't get the hint even then. Maybe I was only a child, but I knew _exactly_ what I wanted!" he spoke, and threw himself back to lay in the chair again. Since he'd begun he might as well finish. The more he recalled, the more he was hurting. His hands clenched into fists on the arms of the chair.

"And _"Can't you do something real for a change?" "Why must you let most of your strengths go to waste?"_ I repeat – I knew exactly what I wanted. My future. Mine - and it's _very real_! Arts are real. _Acting_ is a real job!" His cold look was fixed on his father's but-I-only-thought-of-your-best expression. And he wondered again why he even bothered. Mom had always been the better listener. But then again, Mom had just about always agreed with him in everything, done everything the way he had wanted, so it was uncertain if even she had really listened. But still. And Mom was dying. So he guessed he was just desperate enough tonight.

"I know, I know", Barty then said gently, making a calming gesture with his hands. "It's fine. But would it kill you to make room in your future for other things too? To aim higher, live up to your full potential – you can never know what life brings and what will be of use."

Junior had to admit there seemed to be some good intention in there, but he still couldn't dismiss the strongest feeling – that his dream was looked at as some kind of a joke, or in the least as less worthy than many other things.

"I'm sure you'd have so much to give to the wizarding world." Barty finished his little speech, trying to sound only kind, but couldn't help a hint of frustration. A very unpleasant silence fell into the room, apart from the fire's cracking in the fireplace. Junior was staring at him with expressionless eyes, whereas Barty looked out of the window, confused sadness in his. A thought kept pounding in Junior's head, screaming to be out.

"You now wish that we hadn't moved here. That you hadn't sent me to muggles' public school. That I hadn't made all those friends."

"…Yes… I wish that."

Junior immediately stormed out of the room and into his, but felt the same as in nightmares where a monster is chasing you and your feet betray you. Barty had realized it the moment the words left from his lips, that while they were true for the moment, his means had come out horribly wrong. For a moment he thought of going after the boy but decided to do it later, when he'd know better what to say. In the back of his mind kept beating wise words: never put off till tomorrow what you can do today. Tomorrow may be a little too late.


End file.
